


Blood Bound

by turquoise_tales



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Artist Steve Rogers, Atleast for now, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky needs a hug, But it will all be happy in the end, Canon-Typical Violence, Coming Untouched, Dad Steve Rogers, Everyone fucking needs a hug, Fluff, Happy Ending, He'd probably dead if he had been human, His kid is the best, Hurt/Comfort, I might have lied about the lot of fluff, I'm Sorry, Kinda, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Probably a lot of it, Probably also cheesy, Semi-Public Sex, Steve fails at life, Steve need a hug, Subspace, Teacher Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, Vampire Clint Barton, Vampire Natasha Romanov, Vampire Steve Rogers, a whole lot of violence, god help me, looks like a whole lot of smut too, slight D/s, ws bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:06:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8565211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turquoise_tales/pseuds/turquoise_tales
Summary: Bucky groaned, pushing himself up and instantly flinching at the soreness bordering on pain that spread throughout his lower back and ass but it was still a good kind of soreness. Bucky wanted to curl back up into the blankets and dream about the beautiful stranger with… brown hair? Red? Bucky couldn’t remember. He scrunched up his face, eyes shut tight, trying to jog his memory and no matter what he did, he could not remember the Stranger- not his name, not his face. Bucky screamed into his pillow in frustration, the vague memories of the stranger fading more but he could still feel the lips on every inch of his skin, the fingers pushing inside him. Pushing himself away from his bed, his signature scowl slipping onto his face, Bucky limped into the bathroom to get ready for the day. ------(it weirdly starts with smut, actually)Steve is a vampire who is a dad failing spectacularly in day to day life. Bucky is a grumpy teddybear who teaches first grade. He happens to be Steve's daughter, Sarah's teacher. He also happens to be Steve's soulmate.Tags will be added as the story continues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello there!! This was actually born out of a discussion with my best friend and here we are! I don't know when I'm gonna update next but I'm hoping to finish this by the end of November. So hopefully, soon? Enjoy! *slinks away into the mushroom to try and work on the next chapter*
> 
> Unbeta'd

“Fuck,” Bucky moaned as he heard the headboard hit the wall with a loud thump. The blond angel above him- _Steve-_ only grinned, not even faltering in his movements. Bucky had his legs tightly wrapped around Steve’s hips, his ass tilted up as he tried to meet Steve at every thrust. Time seemed hazy, he didn’t remember how long they had been going at it. He could feel Steve’s sweat rolling of his chest onto his, mixing with his sweat and the pool of precum his cock was drooling onto his stomach. _God,_ he wanted to come so badly but he didn’t want it to end at the same time; he didn’t want to the hot slide of Steve’s huge cock stretching him until it was almost painful- he felt so full, so complete as if he had been missing a part of him all this time and did not even know about it until now; he didn’t want those eyes swallowed by black with lust, a thin ring of blue around the edges to stop looking at him in awe as though he was something that had to be worshipped; he didn’t want that cherry red mouth, swollen now from all the kisses and from when his own cock had slipped in between them, to stop doing exactly that, murmuring his name reverently into his skin as if they could stain their beauty into Bucky’s soul- _Bucky, Bucky-_ and Bucky wanted him to shut up before he believed he was worth it. Instead, he felt tears slip out the corners of his eyes and when the blond angel- _Steve Steve Steve-_ looked at him concerned, his movements slowing, Bucky thrust his hips up until he felt his ass hit Steve’s hips with bruising force and he could see the understanding dawn in Steve’s eyes. Bucky felt Steve push up, bracing himself on one hand while his other held both of Bucky’s wrists on the pillow above him and Bucky couldn’t even move his metal prosthetic against the strength.

“Wanna come for me, baby?” Steve asked, thrusting into Bucky with an almost inhuman strength and speed and Bucky only moaned, his eyes screwed shut, tears steadily streaming onto his temple, slipping into his dark hair, strewn across the pillow in a parody of a halo as if Steve was fucking all his sins and all his pain out of him- he wished it was true, he did. “Think you can come only from this, baby? Come on, I know you can do it. Come for me, Bucky, just like this.”

And Bucky did, his mouth open in a silent scream as he came and came, his cock jerking, splattering all over his own stomach and chest as his back arched, his head thrown back, his hole clutching around Steve’s hot length. Steve’s mouth was suddenly at his neck and there was a sharp pain- _it felt so good_ \- then, pleasure beyond anything he had experienced. He felt his mind white out and for a moment he wondered if the angel had fucked him into heaven, and then, he didn’t think at all.

When he came to, Bucky was warm to the point it was almost uncomfortable. There was something- _somebody-_ wrapped around him and he could hear someone whispering but he couldn’t understand what it was, he could feel fingers running through his hair gently, lips pressing soft kisses all over his face. He was so comfortable, he felt so happy. Turning his head to bury his face into the warm body next to him, Bucky sighed, content.

“Bucky?”

“Mm,” Bucky replied not bothering to move.

“You with me, Buck?”

Of course, he was. Bucky wanted to scoff but the golden voice was too soothing so he just kissed the patch of skin in front of him without even opening his eyes. He felt lips pressing against his hair in return.

“Wanna drink some water?”

No, Bucky didn’t want to move. He made a vague noise of disagreement but the voice was persistent.

“Come on, Buck, just a few sips and then you can go back to sleep, I promise.” The warm body was moving away from him and Bucky just clutched at it tighter making a sound of disapproval.

“Hush, baby, I’m just getting the bottle on the dresser. I’m not even leaving the bed.”

Bucky forced his eyes open, blinking to focus on the beautiful face above him. “S-steve?” He forced out, his voice refusing to cooperate, his throat raw. Steve’s answering smile was bright and he leaned down to press his lips against Bucky.

“I’m just gonna get the bottle, okay? Be good for me now.” Steve’s lips pressed against the cleft of Bucky’s chin when Bucky loosened his grip.

Bucky felt himself slowly being moved to a half sitting position, his back flush against Steve’s back, an open bottle brought to his lips. If it was anyone else, Bucky would have punched their face in with his metal hand for treating him so delicately, for trying to _take care of him, telling him to be good._ But this was Steve… a stranger. A one night stand he brought home from the bar that he didn’t want to let go now. His mind was not coherent for such heavy thoughts yet and when he felt Steve gently nudging the bottle against his lips, his other hand drawing gentle patterns on Bucky’s stomach, Bucky tilted his head back and drank every drop of water in the bottle. It was only after Steve tucked him in again under the blankets, against his warm chest with gentle praises murmured between soft kisses that Bucky realized Steve had cleaned them both up but he was already closing his eyes, letting sleep take over him, feeling the safest he has ever felt.

                                                                              ***

When Bucky woke up, he woke up alone in his bed without his usual hangover, and he would have written off the previous night as a steamy dream (that he definitely shouldn’t have woken up from because, _damn)_ if not for the empty bottle on the dresser and… chipped off paint on the wall from when the headboard had banged against it. Bucky groaned, pushing himself up and instantly flinching at the soreness bordering on pain that spread throughout his lower back and ass but it was still a good kind of soreness. Bucky wanted to curl back up into the blankets and dream about the beautiful stranger with… brown hair? Red? Bucky couldn’t remember. He scrunched up his face, eyes shut tight, trying to jog his memory and no matter what he did, he could not remember the Stranger- not his name, not his face. Bucky screamed into his pillow in frustration, the vague memories of the stranger fading more but he could still feel the lips on every inch of his skin, the fingers pushing inside him. Pushing himself away from his bed, his signature scowl slipping onto his face, Bucky limped into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It’s not like he could just take a holiday from work especially on a day where there was a new kid. He hoped New Kid Sarah Rogers wouldn’t give him much trouble and get along with the others quickly. He was definitely not in a mood for any kind of tantrums or crying today. After a perfunctory shower and shave, Bucky dragged his sore ass to the kitchen and looked mournfully at the ingredients he had bought for pancakes the previous day as he grabbed a couple of granola bars. He was definitely too exhausted to cook anything and at that moment he wished the stranger had been nice enough to stay and make him breakfast after the amazing night. Thinking about the Stranger who he couldn’t remember ( _How drunk was he last night to forget a face?_ ) only deepened his scowl. Picking up his bag, he forced his mind onto work while grabbing an orange from the basket of fruits on his table ( _wait, when had he gotten fruits? why couldn’t he remember shit! Fucking alcohol!),_ he locked his front door on the way out.

That day Bucky didn’t feel the usual pain that weighed down his heart. Instead, there was a huge empty space in him and he didn’t know why.

                                                                      ***

 

Sarah Rogers was a great kid. For a six-year-old in a new school, she made friends before the first break all the while managing to not disrupt the class. Bucky even found her sternly telling off the class bully that no one had stood up to so far and he decided the Sarah Rogers was his favorite student and one day she would do something great and he would be telling everyone who would listen that she was his student. Bucky always said he was good at reading people.

All in all, when parents started showing up to pick up their kids at the end of the day, Bucky decided that it had been a really good day and if all his students were like Sarah Rogers with her toothy smile and eager attitude, he would want to live in the school. Don’t get him wrong- he did love all his rowdy kids, even when he had three of them in the air hanging off his metal arm just because he could lift them all together and they wanted to _play monkey bars on your, Mr. Barnes, please_. It came as a huge surprise when the kids had crowned _Grumpy Mr. Barnes_ as their favourite teacher last teacher’s day (a “harmless” contest that actually was a full blown friendly war among the staff with teachers cancelling homework and even bringing home made sweets to woo the kids and Bucky had done none of that). But some days- like, today when his ass sent up a tinge of dull pain every time he sat down too hard or a little ball of too much energy crashed into his backside for whatever reason (a.k.a piggyback rides- Bucky will deny any accusations of him enjoying this) and all he wanted was a nice cup of coffee, a good book and a warm bubble bath (he will also deny the bubble part of the bath) to soak his aching muscles in; he also wouldn’t mind if the Stranger (who, to Bucky’s annoyance, had never strayed too far from his thoughts) also crammed into his bathtub with him and gave him a nice massage; maybe they could also have a repeat of the night before after the bath- some days, it would be wonderful to have a class full of attentive kids that got along. 

 Shaking away work inappropriate thoughts from his head, Bucky looked up at the clock. Sarah Rogers was the only kid still waiting in the now empty classroom and her parent was already 10minutes late.

“Sorry, Mr. Barnes,” Sarah said smiling ruefully- a way too mature expression for her young face. “My dad sometimes gets lost in his head when he’s working in the studio.”

Bucky grunted in reply. If it was any other kid, Bucky would have given the parent a good talk on responsibility but Sarah had somehow already carved a permanent space in his heart but he wasn’t that far off from giving her father the speech anyway.

The second hand made two more rounds before Bucky heard heavy footsteps getting louder as they reached his class and at the door stood the most beautiful man Bucky had ever laid eyes on- he was even bigger than Bucky for God’s sake and how often was it he found someone this hot with his mussed up blond hair and blue, blue eyes… and all familiar? Why was the beefcake at his classroom door familiar? Bucky didn’t have enough friends nor did he go to parties (even if Tony fucking Stark whined about his lack of participation every time) to have seen someone in passing and forgotten about them (especially not someone who looked like a Greek god).

“Have we met?” Bucky heard himself asking before he could stop himself. He saw those blue, blue eyes move from where they had been watching Sarah stand up and pick her stuff up to fix on him only to widen almost comically in alarm. Those red lips parted in a silent gasp. If it was any other time, Bucky would have cataloged the look as a reaction to his beauty but he knew for a fact that he looked like shit today and the beauty part didn’t usually happen unless he was headed to the club.

“Uhm, n-no, we haven’t,” the blond stuttered out quickly, schooling his expression to something that could pass as neutral. “I’m Sarah’s father, Steve Rogers. We moved into the neighborhood a week ago. You must be Mr. Barnes”

Steve’s voice was deep enough to reverberate in Bucky’s bones, and his heart started thumping against his chest. Bucky could not understand why his body was reacting this way to a complete stranger- no matter how attractive the said stranger was; he didn’t understand the shocks that ran up his arm when Steve grasped his outstretched hand.

“Your shoelaces aren’t done again, Daddy,” Sarah piped up, breaking the tense moment between the men and Bucky pulled his hand away quickly, feeling his face heat up. He scowled, trying not to look at Steve who had dropped to the ground to tie his laces, one knee on the ground even as his heart continued to hammer away at his chest. Bucky tried not to think about everything Steve could do from down there.

“If you could be more punctual next time, Mr. Rogers,” Bucky managed to say gruffly and instantly regretted it when Steve flushed, the red traveling down his neck down below his collar.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes,” Steve replied softly. “I will try my best next time. Thank you for taking care of Sarah today.” And with a long look at Bucky, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, an unrecognizable emotion in his eyes, Steve turned and walked away, Sarah’s bag on his shoulder as he held the little girl’s hand. Sarah skipped alongside him, happily chattering along. Bucky looked from Sarah’s chocolate skin and curly dark hair to Steve- unusually pale and blond- slightly confused before shrugging, his heart calming down. When Bucky finally finished locking up and headed out to where his bike was parked (bad decision. His ass would never let him live down the pain.), he could see Sarah beside a car rummaging her bag while Hot Dad Steve… leaned his forehead against the car, shoulders slumped in defeat? Then, Sarah pulled out a key ring with different keys on it and held it out to Steve, who took it gratefully, bending down to kiss her forehead. Unlocking the door of his car, Steve reached inside and pulled out another key. Bucky looked on incredulous- _had he really locked his car keys inside his car and did his_ daughter _just give him the spare? How irresponsible was this man, exactly?_

It was not until they had both got into the car- Steve looking back to catch Bucky’s eye one last time as if he knew Bucky had been looking at the pair all along- and driven off that it hit Bucky. It hit him like a punch to his stomach. He remembered. _Everything._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a miracle that Bucky made it home safe with everything spinning in his head. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, Bucky parked his bike and pushed forward on his trembling legs. He smiled shakily at the people inside the elevator, pressing the button to his floor and digging his nails into his palms. When the doors opened to his floor, Bucky stumbled out quickly, not sparing the others a glance. It took him three tries until he managed to unlock his door, but when he did, he walked in and slammed the door behind him, sinking to the floor, his head in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long to update! I swear it'll be more weekly updates from now on, if not more. Okay so this fic was supposed to be fluffy but haha... sorry. *hides inside mushroom*
> 
> MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS: 1) Bucky has an anxiety attack  
> 2) Graphic description of violence.
> 
> I'll put in a brief summary at the end for those who don't want to read this chapter. I swear it gets happier... after a few more chapters. *hides deeper inside the mushroom*  
> Enjoy!  
> unbeta'd  
> P.S. This fic hit almost 100 kudos!! AAHHHH I'm so fucking happy!! Thank you guys for all the wonderful support. You guys make my days, honestly.

It was a miracle that Bucky made it home safe with everything spinning in his head. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, Bucky parked his bike and pushed forward on his trembling legs. He smiled shakily at the people inside the elevator, pressing the button to his floor and digging his nails into his palms. When the doors opened to his floor, Bucky stumbled out quickly, not sparing the others a glance. It took him three tries until he managed to unlock his door, but when he did, he walked in and slammed the door behind him, sinking to the floor, his head in his hands. He remembered everything. He remembered the sounds of guns firing permeating through the thin walls from his neighbour’s tv; he remembered his anxiety rising, all the memories of war bubbling just under the surface, threatening to flood his mind; he remembered picking up his phone to call Natasha but changing his mind and stomping down to his usual bar to drown his sorrows in alcohol; he remembered getting laid not being a part of his plan but still being transfixed on the blond stranger whose beauty almost seemed otherworldly under the pulsing lights; he remembered the stranger approaching him, asking him for a dance and Bucky clinging to him as they moved their bodies; he remembered bringing the stranger home, the night leading to the best sex he had ever had followed by the  _ stranger taking care of him _ \-  _ Steve Steve Steve.  _ The stranger who turned out to be the parent of his student who might have been cheating on his partner, and Bucky felt disgusted with himself for still wanting Steve, for missing the feeling of safety and belongingness that had washed over him when he had been wrapped up in Steve’s arms.

 

Bucky didn’t know how long he sat there, clutching his hair, traitor tears slipping out. He could feel the guilt and anxiety rolling over him in waves even as he tried to do the breathing exercises his therapist had taught him _in hold out in hold out in hold…_ _Imagine calm sea waves lapping over feet, warm sunsets, strong arms wrapping him in a warm hug, Steve smiling softly-_ “Goddammit!” Bucky cried out, hitting his head hard against the door. “Get a hold of yourself, Barnes!” His head fell forwards again, his fingers digging into his scalp, increasing the throbbing pain where he had banged his head. He forced in deep breaths, focusing on the pain. When the tear trails cooled and he felt his heartbeat calm down to something that could pass as normal, Bucky reached for his phone. 

 

He rested his head on his knees, still curled into himself, as he held the phone to his ear. His free hand dug into his foot until his nails made stinging crescents into his skin, pressing in harder as the ringing in his ear prolonged. He let go once the call connected.

 

“Barnes?” Natasha’s low, honey-smooth voice crackled through the phone.

 

Ironically, Bucky met Natasha in the same bar he had met Steve in. Again, when he had gone to drown his anxiety- but this had been just after he had returned,  _ honourbly dis-fucking-charged _ with an empty sleeve and no future except his army pension. He still didn’t know why Natasha had decided to talk to the hopeless, drunk guy, slumped in a corner of the dingy bar, but she had. And when Bucky had first seen her, he thought he was dead or atleast close to death because why else would a beautiful avenging angel approach him? Nonetheless, once he had puked all the poison out of his system and realised he was still alive, he made his first friend since he had come back. Natasha had been the one to push him into therapy which in turn convinced him to make use of his college degree and get a job. Of course, Natasha had been there when he had had doubts about the kids being safe under him. He had finally,  _ finally  _ got his life back together somewhat and now some  _ random one night stand _ was ruining it for him.  _ And he didn’t even fucking know why. _

 

“‘Tasha,” Bucky blurted into the phone, the tension in his shoulders seeping out. Natasha kept odd hours and whatever she did for a living (he was convinced she was a spy), Bucky never actually saw her during the day. He had been afraid she would not pick up. “I slept with a parent.”

 

The line was silent for a few seconds, and then, “Should I be offering my blessings or something?”

 

“Tasha, no!” Bucky could feel his breathing pick up uncomfortably. “I slept with a  _ parent! _ He could have been  _ cheating _ ! I don- I don’t even  _ know _ why I’m-”

 

“James, calm down-”

 

“I’ve  _ never _ felt like this before, Nat! And he acted like he’s never even  _ seen  _ me before! What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t even kn-”

 

“ _ James!” _

 

“Sorry,” James half- whispered, trying not to sniff. “I’m fine. I don’t even know him. I’m gonna go get some ice- cream. Bye Nat.”

 

“Listen-” Bucky hung up without waiting and pressed the power button of his phone until it shut down. Scrubbing his hands roughly across his face, Bucky huffed getting up and grabbing his wallet from his bag, before heading out.  _ Stupid anxiety. Stupid him. Stupid Steve. _ There was nothing wrong. He slept with a parent but it wasn’t like he did it knowingly and if the thought of Steve with someone else sent a stab of pain through him, it was just him being ridiculous. To think he had a connection with someone he had only slept with and not even had a proper conversation!  _ Soulmates don’t exist, Barnes,  _ he thought bitterly.  _ Fucking forget about it.  _ He _ did already. _

 

It was already dark when Bucky existed the building, streetlights flickering and illuminating sections of the narrow path. Bucky shivered against the autumn chill, drawing the hood of his thin jacket over his head as he started walking towards the nearest 24 hour store. His teeth started chattering half way through his walk and he scowled.  _ Fuck it _ , he thought, turning into an alley that was, while a short cut to the store, still dangerous to walk through at night. If he was gonna die, tonight was good as any. Besides, he could punch the shit out of anyone who even remotely threatened him. Tony Fucking Stark didn’t do shoddy jobs anyway. 

 

Surprisingly, Bucky made it to the shop unharmed and spent ten minutes trying to decide between a tub of Double chocochip ice cream and Mint chocolate ice cream before grabbing both of them and making it to the check-out counter. The only person besides him in the shop was the pasty teenager behind the counter, wearing nothing but a thin tank top and ripped jeans, chewing gum loudly. She looked up at Bucky when he set down the ice cream and stared at him, her eyes narrowing. Bucky raised an eyebrow, pulling out his wallet. The girl looked at him weirdly for another moment before whipping out her phone to…  _ text? _ Bucky didn’t have time for this shit.

 

“Ain’t got all night, kid,” he scowled, pushing of his hood to make his glare more effective. Although he didn’t know how much his red rimmed eyes affected his killer look. The girl stiffened suddenly as the air shifted from Bucky’s movements before typing even more furiously. Stuffing her phone inside her jeans, she turned towards Bucky, not looking at him as she scanned the items and printed out the bill. When Bucky put down a twenty dollar bill, the girl placed her hand on the note too, her fingertips touching Bucky’s. Her fingers were ice cold.  _ Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. _

 

Bucky scowled at his inner voice, yanking his hand back and grabbing the offered change. He snatched the bag of ice creams from the counter and stalked off to the exit but he couldn’t resist looking back at the weird girl who was staring after him still. He suppressed the shiver of uncomfortable fear that ran down his spine, blaming it on the chilly breeze and ignored the danger alarms going off inside him  _ Run Run Run Find Steve. _

 

_ What in the actual fuck was wrong with him _ ? Bucky shook his head growling. He was losing his goddamned mind. He kicked at a pebble as he made his way back home, taking the same alley way back. It was darker in the alley- the two streetlights on the opposite ends only doing so much to light the way. So when Bucky heard a faint scuffle, he muttered, “cat”, trying to convince himself that his heart thudding painfully against his chest and the hair that stood up on his neck was only due to paranoia. He didn’t even look up until he saw his path being blocked by someone. Bucky’s eyes drew up from the worn out sneakers in front of him, taking in the faded jeans and finally reaching the face covered by the shadows. He couldn’t see the features very well but the man in front of him was taller even if leaner. 

 

“There’s nothing here but ice cream, man,” Bucky said, his voice low and dangerous. He was really not looking for a fight. He just wanted to eat his goddamn ice cream and maybe binge watch netflix. “You don’t want to get hurt over nothing.”

 

“Did you hear that, Darla?” The man said, his voice creepily sweet, speaking as if Bucky wasn’t even there. That’s when Bucky realises the presence of another being behind him. He whirls around quick only to come face to face with the girl from the store. “It thinks we’re the one getting hurt.” 

 

“Rumlow’s gonna love it,” the girl-  _ Darla _ \- says. Her high pitched voice grates at Bucky’s ear drums and he shift the bag to his flesh hand. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through his blood, knows deep down that this situation is a kill or be killed kind but he also knows he’s gonna do everything to not hurt the girl if she does attack. He can’t possibly-

 

Darla sneers at him, her lips curling back from her teeth, exposing... _ fangs. FANGS??  _ Bucky subtly pinched himself. What kind of B rated horror movie had he ended up in. Vampires didn’t exist in real life and yet. Yet, there was one very real vampire stalking towards him while another laughed behind him. Instinctively, he flings his metal arm and winces when he hears it connect against the girl-  _ vampire’s _ \- face, throwing her hard against the alley wall. Before he can assess the damage though, the vampire girl is back on her feet, now snarling at him and Bucky spies a dent in the wall- a few bricks crumbling- where she had fallen. 

 

“You’ve gone and pissed her off now,” the man behind him whistles but Bucky barely hears it, his battle senses running overdrive as if he was back in the war again. “It’s gonna hurt so much more now, human.”

 

Next time the girl makes a move, Bucky is ready. Flinging out his leg to off balance her, he unches her straight in the face with his left arm, his flesh hand moving to grab her neck- the ice cream bag long forgotten, destroyed on the ground. He moved his hand, throwing her hard against the ground, his hand still choking her and this time, he didn’t wince when he heard the tell-tale crunch of skull cracking. 

 

“ _ Darla!”  _

 

If the man had been human, Bucky might have reacted in time. But he had only half turned, his arm moving to block the blow before the man backhanded him across his face and he went flying like a ragdoll. He hit the wall, his head banging against the bricks making dark spots cover pop before his eyes.  _ Had to get up, had to fight-  _ but what for? His limbs were all jelly. The pain in his head almost enough to knock him out-  _ No! had to live… for Becca, for Nat, for Ste- _ Steve didn’t love him. Bucky could feel the blood trickle down the side of his face, his eyes trying to focus on the figure walking towards him, blinking to fight the black spots. Steve didn’t love-

 

The figure wasn’t walking towards him anymore and suddenly there was so much more backing and scuffling as if there was a fight and Bucky tried to move-  _ Had to fight, had to stay alive- _ and maybe he did, he didn’t know. It wasn’t long- or maybe it was- before Bucky heard a scream followed by the sound of ripping flesh and silence for a few moments before he heard the sound again.  _ Had to run. _ Bucky didn’t know why he felt so safe even when he knew he was a few feet away from death; away from mythical creatures he hadn’t believed existed till now. There was a figure crouching in front of him now. Bucky tried to move again to defend himself.

 

“Bucky?” Bucky knew that voice. He knew it in his soul. “Baby, it’s me, Steve. Bucky can you hear me?”

 

“Ste- ste-ve?” Bucky forced out. Why was Steve here? Maybe he  _ was _ actually dead.

“Bucky!” 

 

Bucky felt tentative hands touch his and he forced himself to move, pushing his hands weakly into the familiar ones. Suddenly he was being engulfed in warm arms, his head resting gently against a firm, broad chest. Steve had… killed those creatures. Steve was… dangerous. Then why was Bucky willingly curling up into the other man? He didn’t know. He didn’t know why the feeling of safety wrapped around him, he didn’t know why Steve smelled like… home.

 

“-did so well, baby. I’m so sorry. I got you, now-” Steve’s voice drifted somewhere through his consciousness and he felt warm lips brushing against his forehead softly. Then, he blacked out.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has an anxiety attack about Steve being a parent and Bucky feeling major feels for essentially a stranger who might have cheated on his partner. He calls Natasha and then goes out to get ice cream. Gets attacked by vamps on Rumlow's side (ENEMY ENEMY) and kinda knock out one before he gets injured and Steve swoops in and kills the vamps and Bucky passes out. In Steve's arms. 
> 
> I honestly have no firm idea as to where this fic is going so suggestions are still welcome. Comments and kudos give me life and much needed motivation to write. 
> 
> Let's become friends on [tumblr](http://that-girl.tumblr.com/) !


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky woke up to the smell of smoke and the faint voice of someone cussing. Moving to his hands to rub his eyes, he groaned when the pain in his head made itself known. Suddenly there was banging in kitchen followed by another flurry of curses before a blond head poked through the door, concern etched all over the ethereal face.
> 
> “Steve?” Bucky asked squinting in the dim light that filtered through the hallway. It was still dark outside. “What are you doing here? What happened? What’s with the smoke?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!!! I know this chapter is late (two months late, yes), I'm sorry. You can yell at me, I have no excuses. I'm really, really sorry. I promise I'll try better from now on. *hides in the mushroom*
> 
> Hope you enjoy! The next chapter has more action, I swear. I also wanted to thank everyone who came up with ideas for this story. It really helped, thank you. Now I know where this story is going exactly, so here's to not disappointing all of you in the process. (haha, I'm doomed). But if you guys have more ideas, leave them in the comments below and I might just slip them into the story somewhere! 
> 
> Unbeta'd like always but if you're interested, hit me up here or on tumblr.

Bucky woke up to the smell of smoke and the faint voice of someone cussing. Moving to his hands to rub his eyes, he groaned when the pain in his head made itself known. Suddenly there was banging in kitchen followed by another flurry of curses before a blond head poked through the door, concern etched all over the ethereal face.

 

“Steve?” Bucky asked squinting in the dim light that filtered through the hallway. It was still dark outside. “What are you doing here? What happened?  _ What’s with the smoke?” _

 

“Uh.. hey, Buck,” Steve said hesitantly, his eyes shifting all over the room, avoiding looking directly at Bucky. “What do you remember?”

 

_ What does he remember? What…  _ Bucky thought back to the amazing sex, New Kid Sarah Rogers, followed by the anxiety attack-  _ oh no, he was attacked by VAMPIRES??  _ Maybe none of it actually happened, maybe it was all a ridiculous dream, which meant Steve never actually left the next morning.  _ Maybe his head hurting was because if a hangover. _

 

“I had the most ridiculous dream ever,” Bucky started, wincing as his head throbbed more. “There were vampires and you had a  _ daughter- Steve, what's with the smoke?” _

 

“Uh there might have been an incident involving pancakes burning but I got it under control before the fire alarm went off and the kitchen might need a bit of scrubbing-” Steve stopped his nervous rambling, taking a deep breath and trying not to look at Bucky's incredulous face. “Buck, it… wasn't a dream.”

 

“Did you-  _ did you mess with my kitchen??”  _

 

Bucky gauged Steve's stunned reaction before what the blond had said hit him. “ _ It wasn't a dream??  _ Steve, there were  _ vampires! You were a vampire!  _ Vampires don’t exist. _ ” _

 

“Riiight,” Steve muttered. “The wage gap doesn’t either.”

 

“What?”

 

“What?” Steve shook his head and before Bucky could comprehend what was happening, the blond stood inches away from him. “Listen, we can work with the dream since erasing your memory didn’t work last time-“

 

“Erasing my memo- what-“

 

“Shh.” Bucky automatically closed his eyes when Steve’s forehead touched his, cool hands framing his face.

“Steve, what are you-“ Bucky started only to be shushed again. Opening his eyes, he saw Steve frowning adorably in concentration, his eyes closed. When the blue eyes opened again, Bucky found himself drowning in them-  _ God, he loved Steve- wait what?! _

 

“Sleep.” Steve whispered, making Bucky frown.

 

“I just woke up. Steve, will you stop acting so weird? I’m worried about my kitchen!”

 

“Shit,” Steve said. “I fucked up bad.”

 

Bucky’s eyes widened. “I swear to god, Rogers! I’ll make you pay for everything in that messed up kitchen-“ Bucky halted in his rant when Steve let go to flop onto his bed, head burying into the pillows as he groaned loudly.

 

“Steve?” Bucky said tentatively.

 

“Should’ve never approached you in the first place,” Steve mumbled into the pillows defeatedly and Bucky froze and his heart squeezing tightly as if something had stabbed it. His breath hitched, and Steve turned around, sitting up suddenly and reaching for Bucky, his eyes wide with regret. “Bucky, that’s not what I meant-”

 

“It’s fine. You should probably go home. To your partner and daughter.”

 

“Sarah’s with a friend, it’s okay. Bucky, I-”

 

“Get out, Steve! I can’t put up with this! You come waltzing in here and then pretend you didn’t even know me and come up with a ridiculous tale about- about  _ vampires! _ I’m not helping you cheat anymore!”

 

“Bucky, what are you talking about?” Steve reached out again in nervous confusion only to have Bucky slap his hands away.

 

“Don’t touch me!” Bucky growled taking a step back. “Don’t touch me when you already have someone waiting home, you- you- filthy son of a-”

 

“Bucky!  _ Enough! _ ” Steve bit out, his fists clenching tightly at his sides with the effort of resisting touching the other man. Bucky stared wide eyed at him, trembling. “Let me explain.  _ Please.” _

 

Bucky managed to nod before his legs gave out and the back of his skull started to throb but Steve was there in an instant, scooping up the brunet with his inhuman strength and gently setting him down on the bed before tucking him in. “Just because I healed you, doesn’t mean you don’t need rest. I’ll get you something to eat.”

 

Before Bucky could object, Steve was gone. For ten minutes, Bucky stared up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the sound of the clock in his room ticking instead of the emotional turmoil inside of him. Ten minutes later, Steve returned with a bowl of soup, a glass of water and a bar of granola on a tray. Placing the tray on the bedside table, Steve handed the glass of water to Bucky who had managed to push himself up and was leaning back against the bed frame. Bucky accepted the glass and chugged it down in one go before handing it back.

 

“Explain,” Bucky said, calmly. The ten minutes had given him time to settle his feelings if not completely work through them. 

 

“I’m not married, nor do I have a partner,” Steve began, placing the tray on Bucky’s lap and the empty glass on the bedside drawer. “I adopted Sarah from the when she was a baby. Her father was killed in a vampire attack. They were homeless.”

 

Bucky felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Steve hadn’t cheated. What’s more- He could have Steve all for himself. “Vampires-”

 

“Exist.” Steve cut him off. “Drink your soup.” 

 

Bucky scowled but dipped his spoon into the bowl anyway. “Why soup?”

 

“Uh, that’s the only thing I can make well,” Steve replied embarrassed as he looked away. “And the pancakes, uh, got burnt. Sorry about that.”

 

“How is Sarah even alive?” Bucky grumbled but his words held no heat. 

 

Steve grinned. “She’s really mature for her age and I can make some easy things. Besides, my friend sends food often.”

 

“So… vampires?”

 

“Yeah, vampires. We usually just keep to ourselves, erasing memories of people we feed from. But there are the bad lot too… who kill for food.”

 

Bucky was silent for a moment. “The sex- is that a part of the feeding too?” He asked quietly, busying himself with the soup- which surprisingly didn’t taste bad.

 

“What? No! Buck you’re my…” Steve trailed off, looking away uncertainly, his shoulders tense.

 

“I’m your what?”

 

“Soulmate,” Steve said softly, not looking at Bucky. There was a quiet moment before Bucky started chuckling, and then outright laughing all the while trying not to spill his soup.

 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Bucky gasped out inbetween laughter, “Or you actually believe what you’re saying.”

 

Taking the tray away, Steve set it back on the table before turning back to the still chuckling brunet. “Bucky, I know this is hard to take in-“

 

“Steve! Stevie- you can’t possibly be serious!”

 

Steve bared his teeth as non-threateningly as possible “Bucky! You can see my fucking fangs-“

 

“Cosmetic surgery,” Bucky cut him off. Steve looked taken aback, raising his eyebrow in question.

 

“What! I’ve seen Castle- the whole cult of people who think they’re vampires and shit-“

 

“Yeah? How do you explain what happened last night? And the fact that you’re totally healed even when you were bleeding less than 8 hours ago?”

 

Bucky dodged the question, holding tight onto his denial. “Oh now, vampires can heal too? Healing vampires? Steve, can you hear yourself-”

 

“Only their soulmates. They can’t heal every other person who crosses their path,” Steve replied, his irritation slipping into his words. He did understand that it was have someone tell you that the childhood stories of mythical beings weren’t all a lie, but it did nothing to abate his irritation and hurt at being denied of his existence. ”Which makes sense because if their consort dies after being claimed, so do they.”

 

“Consort?”

 

“Yeah, soulmates.”

 

“ _ Consort? _ Steve, what is this? An 1800s romance novel?”

 

“Bucky, look, I know this is all a little hard to believe-“

 

“Damn right it’s hard to believe-“

 

“How do you explain the memory gaps?”

 

Bucky looked away uncertain. Of course, he could say that he had had too much to drink but he knew it was a lie. He had not even drunk enough to get tipsy. He reached for the half empty soup bowl, still avoiding Steve’s piercing gaze.

 

“Okay say, _hypothetically_ , vampires are real-“ Bucky paused to drink a spoonful of the soup, pretending he hadn’t heard Steve’s frustrated sigh. “I have questions.”

 

Steve looked at Bucky for a second before sighing again. “No, we don’t burst into flames in sunlight, we can step on holy ground, holy water and crosses don’t to shit, we aren’t allergic to silver and garlic either. We just have heightened senses that make it uncomfortable to be out in the sun and garlic has a strong odor. Anything else?”

 

Bucky bit down on his bottom lip and Steve resolutely looked away, willing any reaction to the gesture away. “Do you sleep-“

 

“No, no coffins.”

 

“Do you spar-“

 

“ _No._ We definitely _do not sparkle_ ,” Steve spit out in disgust. Bucky’s eyes twinkled as if he had stumbled upon a secret.

 

“Stake to the heart?”

 

“Are you planning on killing me?”

 

“What no!” Bucky protested automatically horrified even before his brain caught up with his reaction. He cleared his throat, trying to salvage his stance. “I mean, you never know. I might be. Why would I tell you if I was.”

 

But Steve already had a smug smile pulling at his lips and Bucky tore his eyes away from those pink magnets of doom, lest he do something he’d regret. Like kiss Steve. Which he didn’t want to do. Not at all. And he’d live in denial till the end of his life.

 

“You didn’t answer the question.”

 

“Plain old wooden stake, no,” Steve replied, still smirking.

 

Bucky contemplated pushing it but then decided against it. “How old are you?”

 

“Old,” Steve sighed, suddenly looking away from Bucky into the distance, his eyes spaced out and haunted.

 

“Gross,” Bucky replied, pushing his empty soup bowl into Steve’s hands. He decided that the haunted look was not something he wanted to see on Steve’s face ever again. It looked too similar to the ones he saw when he caught his own reflection in the mirror. So when, Steve chuckled, snapping out of it, Bucky wanted to smile but he schooled his expression just in time.

 

“Are you rich?”

 

Steve laughed out loud this time. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” He said handing Bucky the granola bar. “Does that make you my gold digger trophy spouse?”

 

Bucky made a face but accepted the granola bar. “I’ll punch your face in, pal,” he said. “Besides, don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not your anything.”

 

Steve’s face fell and Bucky immediately regretted his words. “Yeah, I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled softly, a look of hurt apparent on his face as he winced looking down at his hands before quickly schooling his expression to something more neutral and Bucky’s heart twisted but he didn’t say anything, focusing on unwrapping the bar.

 

“Can you tell me what happened last night?” Steve asked softly after a minute of silence.

 

“I just wanted some ice cream so I went to the store and got jumped on the way back,” Bucky bit out grumpily. He was still mad at himself for being the cause of the hurt look on Steve but he told himself it was because he didn’t want to talk about it.

 

“I’m proud of you for fighting so well,” Steve said gently and Bucky’s heart jumped at the praise, making Bucky angrier. Why the fuck was he reacting like this to Steve?

 

“Whatever,” he snapped, the guilt and anger intensifying when Steve winced.

 

“Can you- can you tell me what they said?” Steve asked hesitantly.

 

“Nothing important,” Bucky mumbled, hunching his shoulders down, his hand clutching the half eaten granola bar closer. “The- the _girl_ was named Darla and something about Rum- something.”

 

“Rumlow?” Steve asked and Bucky immediately took note of the tiny changes in Steve’s body language. His shoulders had stiffened and he clenched his fists.

 

“Yeah, something like that.” Bucky answered cautiously. Steve didn’t speak for a few seconds but Bucky could literally see the wheels turning in his head.

 

“Bucky,” He said finally. “I know this is all weird and overwhelming but you should come stay at my place, until I figure this out.”

 

“You’re kidding right?” Bucky asked incredulous.

 

“Brock Rumlow is dangerous, Buck, and I don’t know what he’s doing-“

 

“No, fuck you. You’re fucking crazy!” Bucky cut in.

 

“Bucky-“

 

“No, listen to me, can you hear yourself speak? I barely know you, how can I trust you?” Bucky half yelled. The anger had boiled over and Bucky was _fucking scared._ But he would never admit to it, of course. Two days ago, he was a veteran who taught little kids during the day and tried to snatch some sleep between nightmares at night. And now there were things that he couldn’t explain. “You’re fucking crazy! Get out of my house!”

 

“Buck-“

 

“Get out, you- you _monster!”_

 

Steve froze and the pain was as clear as day on his face. He flinched as if he had been slapped and that was the moment Bucky hated himself completely for. Because the pain on Steve’s face was not caused by Bucky’s words- no, that was just a catalyst and this was deeper.

 

“Okay,” Steve whispered softly, getting up. “Okay.”

 

“Steve, I-“ Bucky opened his mouth to apologise, suddenly afraid for an entirely different reason, but Steve shook his head sadly and with one last self-deprecating smile, walked out of the door. Two seconds later, Bucky heard the front door click shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that! Comments are food and I need food for energy to write. lol. Make sure to subscribe cause I'll be updating this story a little more regularly. I swear. Thank you! 
> 
> Come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit starts to happen..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so. I know, i know, i owe you all the biggest apology there is out there and I'm really, really sorry. I wasn't really in a good place but I'm definitely not abandoning this fic. And as an apology, there will be another fic coming shortly. A really fluffy one since this has been all angst. I didn't plan it to be, if that makes a difference. So yeah, enjoy and don't murder me *hides inside the mushroom*
> 
> Unbeta'd

The kids in Bucky’s class the next day were really quiet, staying away from his extra grumpy face, well out the range of self-loathing, angry vibes that was pulsing out of him. Everyone kept their head down, and worked silently and when they  _ had _ to speak, they murmured. So much that passing teachers would raise their eyebrows in surprise at the unusually quiet class that was usually afire with laughter and teasing jabs at each other, mostly at Bucky himself. Well, all the students except one Sarah Rogers who would raise her head from her work now and then to viciously glare at Bucky, not that the latter had noticed it yet in his glum, detached state.

 

Bucky had spent half of the rest of the night after Steve had left staring blankly at his bedroom wall, willing himself to breathe rhythmically to stave off an anxiety attack- he definitely didn’t need another this soon after the last one. The other half of the night, he spent reading up on everything he could find about vampires on the internet until he had to chug half a jar of coffee and head to school. His own voice calling Steve a  _ monster  _ and Steve’s subsequent reaction kept playing on a loop in his head like a bad song that he couldn’t get rid off no matter how many times he sang the ending. He hadn’t regretted anything else in his life as much as he regretted everything he had said last night- okay, maybe he regretted rushing into an enemy base with such little intel only to get his arm blown off by an IED more- but it was close. He still wasn’t sure where exactly he stood on the subject of vampires exiting but he did know that losing Steve would be one the two biggest mistakes of his life. The rest of the day in class, he had spent coming up with what he would say to Steve when he came to pick up his daughter. He would apologise, beg on his knees (and maybe do other things when he was down there on his knees-  _ no, Barnes, fucking focus on what is important)  _ if that’s what it took for Steve to forgive him and then they would have hot, steamy sex and get married-  _ okay maybe that was going too far, too fast.  _ Everything would be okay. Or that’s what Bucky convinced himself.

 

Only, when the last bell rang and the flood of parents lined up to collect their kids, a blond man announced he was there to collect Sarah Rogers. The only problem was that, this definitely not the blond that Bucky had been expecting. 

 

“Clint Barton,” the blond man said, sticking out his hand just as Sarah walked over to them with her bag. “Steve said he had added my name to the list of people who could pick up Sarah.” And sure enough the name was right there in Sarah’s document, scribbled out in Steve’s chicken scrawl. Bucky shook his hand.

 

“Hey, Uncle Clint!” Sarah greeted him, wrapping her arms around one of his- and Bucky had to admit he was hot even if he wore a purple tank top under his dark green unzipped hoodie with purple edged sunglasses and had numerous band aids stuck everywhere. Obviously, nothing when compared to Steve, but hot, nonetheless. “Can we go get ice cream?” 

 

“Sure, squirt!” Clint said, reaching up to ruffle her hair only to have his hand batted away.

 

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky asked suddenly and Clint’s resulting piercing, silent gaze suddenly made him feel vulnerable even though Bucky most definitely out-weighed Clint with his taller frame. Clint only shrugged and Bucky felt his stomach drop.

 

“Have a nice day...Mr. Barnes,” he said, taking Sarah’s hand and giving Bucky one apprehensive look before turning and walking away. Sarah completely ignored him. Bucky bit his lip, ignoring his own twisting heart.

 

                                                  ***

 

The next week progressively got worse with Sarah refusing to speak to Bucky and Steve never turning up to pick her up. By Friday, Bucky was running on barely enough sleep, the guilt and nightmares eating at him. Only this time, the nightmares included Steve- sometimes dying in front of him, sometimes leaving him forever. Then, he would start awake to realise Steve had indeed left him. He couldn’t wait for the weekend. A part of him wanted to go out and look for Steve on the streets even if it meant offering himself up as free meat for vampires just for the chance to ask them if they knew Steve, but he knew it was an unrealistic idea. Not to mention he wasn’t really keen on being attacked in an alleyway again. What he would do was lift Steve’s number from Sarah’s file and call him. Even if it meant that he would be toeing the line of breaking school rules. He was determined to win Steve back, no matter the cost.

 

Hence, it came as a complete surprise when Sarah suddenly stopped by his desk and pushed a piece of paper towards him, her face scrunched up in a way that children’s faces do when they are trying not to cry or show any vulnerability. 

 

“You’re killing him,” she snapped at him, her voice surprisingly steady. 

 

“Sarah, what are you talking about-” he started to ask but was quickly cut off.

 

“I don’t know how much you know, Mr. Barnes, but Daddy is sad and I know what happens when- when soulmates re-reject-” she stumbled over the word.  “them- I overheard Uncle Clint and Uncle Sam talking and I know it’s you!”

 

“Sarah-”

 

“It’s all your fault!” She screamed before turning and running to Clint who had just arrived, looking at Sarah with concern deeply etched on his face. Sarah just clung to his legs, pulling him out into the corridor and away. Only then did Bucky open the piece of paper that Sarah had pushed at him. On it was an address written in the chicken scratch that was Sarah’s handwriting. For a wild moment, Bucky found himself wondering if Steve’s handwriting looked similar but then he realised the implications of the information he held in his hands and his heart raced. This was it, he was going to find Steve and make everything right again. 

                                                                 ***

It was late evening before Bucky could even get home but his determination and desperation to see Steve and apologise had only strengthened. He found himself driving straight to the address without stopping at his own home, stopping at a McDonalds on the way to force a burger down to quiet his growling stomach. He had had no appetite and he was running on the single apple he had forced himself to eat in the morning. When he finally reached the address, he parked his bike in front of the huge mansion and for a moment wondered if this was all a big practical joke. Steve’s house, if it was indeed Steve’s house, was more like a massive mansion, complete with a front garden, huge doors and tall compounds. If there was a pool somewhere in the backyard, Bucky wouldn’t be surprised. 

 

Bucky just stood there for five whole minutes, his heart beating a mile a minute and his palms sweating as he gaped at the huge building in front of him, desperately praying that courage would not desert him. Finally, he forced himself to walk past the front gate, his hand poised to knock, when the door suddenly banged open in his face and Sam Wilson, his therapist stood there. He was holding the door half open in one hand, while the other held a silver…  _ stake? _

 

“Oh my god, Bucky! Are you okay?!” Sam gushed before Bucky had barely started to process the sudden turn in events. “Where’s Steve? Is he hurt?”

 

“Um, Sam? What- what are you doing here?” Bucky asked confused. “Where’s Steve?”

 

“Isn’t Steve with you?? Fucking shit!” Sam swore and Bucky suddenly found himself being pulled inside and the door slammed behind him. Bucky stood there frozen, half in awe of the extensive and expensive space in front of him and half from bewilderment. The floor was covered in plush carpet and Sarah stood behind a couch holding a water gun in her hand. 

 

“Belladonna water,” Sam offered as an explanation when he realised Bucky was staring at the water gun.

 

“What?” Bucky said at the same time Sarah said, “Where’s Daddy?”

 

“Bucky.” Sam started, his voice calm but Bucky could pick up the nervousness teetering at the edge. “Where did you come from?”

 

“Uh, school?” Bucky said, staring at Sam utterly confused. “Sam, how do you know Steve?”

 

“It doesn’t matter now,” Sam said and suddenly his calm exterior broke as he started pacing in front of the door, muttering to himself. Sarah still stood behind the couch, her face scrunching up to keep the tears in.

 

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky asked as terror seized him suddenly. “ _ Sam, Where’s Steve?” _ He reached out, stopping Sam in tracks, clutching at his shoulders, half shaking him.

 

“He- he went to,” Sam stopped and licked his lips nervously before taking a deep breath. “About half an hour ago, he got a message from Rumlow- Rumlow is-”

 

“I know who Rumlow is,” Bucky interrupted, trying his best to stay calm. 

 

“Okay, he got a message from Rumlow saying that he’d gotten you and Steve- f _ uck, I told him it was a trap-  _ he went to the address Rumlow had sent him. He first checked the school and your apartment and said you weren’t at either of the places and that he wasn’t gonna take any chances and now-” Sam stopped mid-sentence, raising his arms in despair. 

 

“Where did Steve go?” Bucky asked suddenly calm. It was the calm that came with a mission. He was finally given a chance at happiness- he’d be damned if he was the reason Steve got hurt. He’d be damned if Steve got hurt. Period. No matter the reason. Not on his watch, Bucky vowed.

 

“A warehouse, near the river- why? Bucky, you can’t-”

 

“I’m going after him,” Bucky said, his voice carrying a note of finality as he let go of Sam, reaching for the door. 

 

“Wait! Bucky!” Sam caught his arm, but Bucky was already shrugging him off. “Wait! You’ll need this.” And Bucky found a gun being pushed towards him. “It has belladona coated bullets. It won’t kill vampires but it will incapacitate them for a while.” __

 

Bucky stared at the gun in his metal arm, suddenly finding himself pushing down memories from the war. This was not the time. He nodded once at Sam and glanced at Sarah, who was angrily wiping stray tears that had escaped against her will. 

 

“Trust your heart to find him,” Sam said quietly, letting go of him. 

 

Without another word, Bucky walked out the door and climbed onto his bike, his mind clear and focused. He was on a mission and he was going to bring Steve back. If nothing else, he owed Sarah that much.  __ He owed her a good father. Holding his own awful childhood memories back, he focused on finding Steve, trusting the strange feeling of  _ knowing _ where Steve was.

 

He let his body guide the vehicle, through narrow lanes and highways until he heard the river rippling under the moonlight, and in the distance saw huge warehouses, all fenced in. Leaving his bike at the fence, Bucky climbed up the fence and down the other side, quietly making his way to one of the identical warehouse. Everything was dark, except for the moonlight. He guessed vampires didn’t need anymore light to see. Trusting his instincts, he pushed the door of the warehouse and finding it unlocked, slipped inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments if you liked it!! I love reading your comments and it always makes my day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky goes to save Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I promised answers in this chapter but I'm really sick rn, not to mention I had the mother of all panic attacks last night and I'm still reeling from it. And obviously, I'm gonna write smut, like, that's a given. So enjoy this vaguely fluffy, smutty chapter. (You gotta admit, I'm did well in the updating schedule part this time). Oh and I also posted the fluffy fic that I'd promised in the last chapter and y'all can check it out [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10881009) (it has no connection to this fic)
> 
> Unbeta'd like usual. 
> 
> Ah, I should also warn you that this chapter is um... fucking weird. I'm blaming everything on my fever haze, I'm responsible for nothing.

 

Bucky had managed to somehow walk into the middle of a standoff. An unfair one, with Steve on his knees, his clothes darkened with what could only be blood, holding a stake in each of his hands, surrounded by vampires. Bucky could feel the adrenaline rising within him, his heart starting to beat faster as fear edged in his periphery. He knew he wasn’t late but seeing Steve in such a vulnerable position left him with a bitter taste in his mouth which he knew preceded the haze that he went into while wreaking havoc. A bloodbath, essentially. Time seemed to slow down as Bucky felt all the eyes in the room turn to him, he saw Steve’s eyes widen first in disbelief and then in alarm. He thought he saw pain in those blue pools, muted grey by the faint moonlight that was the only source of lighting, but there was no time to make sure. He could hear muffled movement through the haze even as he raised the gun, shooting with precision, aiming for the heart of each and every vampire surrounding Steve. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Steve moving with a sort of deadly grace, bodies frozen from the bullets falling dead at his feet. 

 

Later, when Bucky would complain (with no malice) about Steve’s ailment of being a disastrous being rubbing off on him since he didn’t seem to get through a single day without being hurt (only in his case, being hurt translated to getting smacked around by vampires), he would wonder if this time it was actually his fault for paying more attention to Steve than the battle. Either way, Bucky barely saw the vampire leaping towards him from his side, barely had any time to raise his pistol to fire before the vampire’s fist connected to the side of his head. It didn’t carry as much force as it had meant to because, as Bucky found out later, Steve had thrown himself on the vampire,  _ just a little too late _ , and minimised the damage. However, Bucky could still feel his scalp splitting at the force, and thick blood starting to trickle down his neck. With the adrenaline still running high, Bucky simply righted his balance by spinning around and stepping back as if he was dancing and emptying the rest of the bullets into the vampire’s chest even as Steve tore the neck of the vampire with his  _ teeth- like an animal, jesus fucking christ Steve, _ Bucky thought before falling down to his knees. But Steve was there in a second, his arms wrapping around Bucky, keeping him upright.

 

Bucky let himself slump against Steve, the gun slipping out of his fingers as his chin dug into Steve’s shoulder. Around him were the bodies of at least ten vampires in varying degrees of mutilation- the last one, the worst. Bucky wondered if they’d even be able to find all the body parts or even identify the corpse before he decided he didn’t care. Steve was muttering softly to him, his arms tight around Bucky’s torso, holding up most of Bucky’s weight. Bucky was coming down from his battle haze but he could still feel the adrenaline pumping through him. There was a warm buzz instead of pain where he had been hit and it was replaced with a sharp sting when he moved, jostling Steve. When Steve tried to move his head back to his shoulder gently, Bucky shrugged his hand off, his own hand reaching up to twine into Steve’s hair, tugging his face down and crashing his lips against the blond’s. Steve froze and Bucky was just about to move away and apologise, and maybe escape while he was at it when he felt Steve push back into the kiss. Steve’s arm tightened around his torso, pulling him flush while his other hand gently cradled Bucky’s head mindful of his wound even as he attacked the brunette’s mouth with a ferocity that Bucky had missed. The kiss was more teeth and harsh breaths than soft lips pressing against each other. Bucky pushed his tongue into Steve’s mouth tasting the battle blood and scraping his tongue against Steve’s fangs in his haste. He heard Steve moan at the sudden spurt of blood and felt pleasure coursing through him as the vampire enzymes hit his bloodstream. He ground his hips against Steve’s, trying to gain some friction against his rapidly hardening cock. Bucky pulled back trying to pull air into his empty lungs, panting as his hands tugged impatiently at Steve’s pants trying to open them.

 

“You’re a fucking punk,” he gasped as he managed to undo Steve’s belt. “Who the fuck-” he stopped to crash his lips against Steve’s for a moment before pulling back again. “Who the fuck walks straight into such an obvious trap-”

 

“If you hadn’t been such a stubborn-” Steve started breathily, struggling to get Bucky’s shirt off of his chest but only managing to push it up until his armpits since Bucky refused to give up fighting with Steve’s ridiculously tight jeans.

 

“Don’t you dare, you asshole,” Bucky hissed back, finally managing to get Steve’s pants undone and pushing it down mid-thigh. Steve’s cock was already hard, curving up beautifully, pre-cum already beading at the tip. Bucky wanted to taste it so bad but a part of his brain that was still sane knew he would probably faint if he tried that right now with his injury. “You have a fucking child! What would happen to her if you died?!”

 

“Can we not-  _ uh, fuck, Bucky- _ t-talk about my child when you have my dick in your hand?” Steve groaned, his shoulders hunching over as he buried his face in Bucky’s neck even has his thumbs rubbed firmly at Bucky’s nipples, keeping his shirt bunched up. Bucky’s cock twitched in the confines of his jeans which was steadily becoming more uncomfortable as his hips jerked up into the empty air in search of friction. “‘Sides, I would’ve died if you’d actually been here and they’d killed you. Makes no-  _ ah- _ difference.”

 

“You’re a grade A fucknut,” Bucky growled, twisting his hand viciously on the upward stroke, his thumb swiping over the slit to collect more pre-cum, making Steve moan loudly, his hands scrambling towards Bucky’s pants.  _ Finally, _ Bucky thought. 

 

“Oh yeah? How about we talk about-” Steve got Bucky’s pants undone and pushed down just enough to free his cock and pushed Bucky’s hands off of him before pushing Bucky down roughly to the floor. Bucky hit the floor with a thump but Steve’s hand made sure his head did not move too fast or hit the floor even as Steve moved down to blanket Bucky’s body with his own. “-how you fucking walked into a vampire fight with just a gun? Cause if that’s what you call a responsible move, Buck, we have a lot to re-evaluate.”

 

The hand that wasn’t cushioning Bucky’s head moved between their bodies to wrap around both their erections. Bucky threw his head back, possibly crushing Steve’s hand but he didn’t really care at that moment as his back arched and his hips pushed into the grip. “Don’t-  _ ohmygodSteve, just like that-  _ This is about you, you sonvua-  _ hng, fuck, babydoll,”  _ Bucky’s hand moved back to Steve’s hair to tug him down for another filthy kiss as Steve set a punishing pace. Bucky was writhing below Steve, trying to keep up with the kiss even as they traded half-formed insults and tried to keep up the argument and Steve quickened the pace just a little every time Bucky tried to argue back.

 

“Bite me,” Bucky snapped finally, his nails scratching red lines across Steve’s back under his shirt. Steve only bared his teeth, fangs and all in a half-predatory grin, half-snarl. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” he rasped.

 

Bucky decided that expression was the hottest thing he’d ever seen and if he died right now, he would die happy. Moaning loudly, he bared his neck as much as he could, still rutting his hips into Steve’s hand. “ _ Please,” _ he whined, his body shuddering in anticipation of the mind-wiping pleasure. And Steve did. He sunk his fangs into Bucky’s neck, twisting his hand, hard and fast at the same time and Bucky’s orgasm that crashed over him almost rivaled the first time with Steve. 

 

By the time Bucky came around, he was curled against Steve’s naked chest while the blond rubbed soft circles on his back. He was vaguely sticky and sweaty and absolutely dirty. Bucky groaned, his head still vaguely dizzy, as he curled tighter against the hard chest. “You fucking  _ asshole, _ ” he grimaced, his left arm moving to touch his now non-existent wound. 

 

Steve-  _ that punk _ \- had the audacity to chuckle, nuzzling into his hair softly. “If you’d let me heal you properly before attacking my dick, you probably wouldn’t have passed out.”

 

Bucky made a vague attempt to hit Steve but he really didn’t have the strength so all he managed was a soft pat against Steve’s face which only made Steve grin wider. “Shut your face, Rogers,” Bucky grumbled.

 

“As you wish., Sweetheart,” Steve whispered placing butterfly kisses all over Bucky’s face until the brunette pushed his face away scowling. 

 

“Fucking sap,” he complained as he slowly became aware of the carnage around them and the fact that they’d gotten each other off in the middle of a battlefield, literally. “Ugh, take me home. They’re gonna be worrying.”

 

“I texted Sam,” Steve said tensing suddenly, his voice strained. “Do you need to call, I mean-”

 

“Since, my therapist is already your best fucking friend, n- hm, Nat, probably, but she doesn’t even know I’m here-”

 

“Natasha?”

 

Bucky peered up at Steve accusingly through the curtain of his hair, “She’s a vampire too, isn’t she?”

 

Steve’s eyes shifted away looking at anything but Bucky but since the room was filled with corpses, there wasn’t much to look at. He hunched in on himself guiltily, looking like a man who knew his end was near. Bucky groaned thumping his head back against Steve’s shoulder, “I’m not even surprised. Just take me home, Rogers.”

 

When Steve’s grip on him tightened imperceptibly, Bucky though back on his words and rolled his eyes. “I meant your house, you idiot.” 

 

Steve’s eyes widened as he let out a small huff of breath that suspiciously sounded like a relieved “ _ oh”  _  and grinned bright enough to light up the dark room. He stood up, carefully gathering Bucky up in his arms as he stood up fluidly, like Bucky with all his bulked up muscles and metal arm weighed a feather. He started walking towards the door, leaving Bucky to twist in his arms and look meaningfully at the blond’s abandoned t-shirt. “Uh, Stevie, I don’t know if you noticed but you left your t-shirt…”

 

Steve turned bright red at that and Bucky wondered how a man who could do such sinful things to his body with a smirk could turn so deliciously red in the aftermath. “I used it to clean us up,” Steve muttered, gently setting Bucky on his feet at the door. “I need to go burn everything, stay here.” Steve walked in again and shut the door. A few minutes later, Bucky heard the click of a lighter and the crackle of the beginnings of a fire. The next second Steve was out of the building, his arm sneaking around Bucky’s waist to subtly help him walk straight.

 

“You’re gonna burn the whole place down?” Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve. 

 

Steve shook his head, “I tried to contain it.”

 

“But you burned your shirt though,” Bucky said smirking as Steve turned red again.

 

“Shuddup, jerk!” Steve hip checked Bucky gently enough not to topple the still stumbling brunette. “How’d you get here?”

 

“I flew,” Bucky muttered back, feeling the adrenaline crash hovering on the horizon. 

 

“Bucky,” whispered softly, pulling him closer. 

 

Bucky scowled. “Bike. Keys are in the back pocket.”

 

“You sure it’s not an excuse for you wanting my hand on your ass?” Steve teased lightly and Bucky only rolled his eyes, leaning heavily against the bike as they reached it.

 

“You know how to drive, Rogers? Or are we jumping from the frying pan into the fire?”

  
“I’m sure I can manage just fine, Buck,” Steve laughed. “Just hold on tight, hm?” He pressed his forehead against Bucky’s softly for a minute before pulling back with a chaste kiss. Bucky nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh yeah. Answers in the next chapter, I promise. Hope you liked that! Constructive criticism is always welcomed as long as you aren't rude. You can also come yell at my awkward self on [tumblr](https://that-girl.tumblr.com) because I love making new friends but I have no idea how to do that *anxious, introverted laugh from inside the mushroom*
> 
> Anyway! Remember that I thrive on your comments <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out of the mushroom* MWAHAHHAHA Y'ALL THOUGHT I WAS GONE BUT GUESS WHAT
> 
> Update since last time: I got into uni :O and uni is hard work (the fact that I'm not doing it justice is secondary). So I can't promise regular updates. But I'm gonna finish this story even if it kills me. 
> 
> I might have started a new story so if y'all want to read shit based of my own irl awkward uni encounters then you could read the new one I guess.
> 
> But seriously, if you've stuck around still, I love you. Thank you so much. You have no idea what all that support means to me <3

Bucky was only vaguely conscious on the ride back and barely complained when Steve half carried him to the door when they reached. Sam looked like he'd aged ten years when he opened the door, almost crying with relief. He supported Bucky, moving him away from Steve even as he had a whispered conversation with the blond that Bucky didn't even bother listening to. Sarah was clinging to Steve, her face buried into his neck as her small body shook with tears. 

 

Sam gently led him away further into the house and to a large room on the first floor.

 

“The bathroom's through there,” Sam said quietly, motioning to a door at the back of the room. “Need help?” 

 

“Fuck off, man,” Bucky grumbled his voice still raw and slurry with exhaustion as it disentangled himself from Sam and stumbled through towards the bathroom. He vaguely heard Sam say something about calling him if he needed anything and Bucky shut the door after a grunt of acknowledgement. Splashing his face with water from the huge, state of the art,  _ marble _ sink (in front of the enormous, gold framed mirror) that Bucky barely noticed, he tried scrubbing all the grime and blood from his skin and hair. 

 

When felt clean enough, Bucky face planted onto the fluffy towel hung on the wall groaning at the softness as his mind numbed from exhaustion. 

  
  


***

 

The next thing he knew, Bucky was waking up to the sudden flood of light to his face, wrapped up warm in a thick blanket in his underwear and a t-shirt that smelled a lot like Steve. Bucky whined, wriggling further into the blanket, pulling the pillow over his head to block out the light. 

 

“Time to wake up!” Steve’s overly cheerful voice announced, pulling away the blanket and the pillow, leaving Bucky defenceless. The brunet kicked out vaguely aiming at Steve but his foot was caught by strong hands even before they'd made it halfway through. 

 

“Come on, Buck,” Steve grinned, starting to massage the foot that was still in his hands. “You can go back to sleep after breakfast.” He suddenly shifted to tickling, making Bucky let out a high pitched shriek (something he'd forever deny). 

 

“Okay! Okay! I'm up, you bully!” Bucky pushed himself up, throwing a pillow at Steve's face, scowling. 

 

“My, my, what a lovely morning person you are!” Steve let go of the foot, his eyes sparkling cheekily. 

 

“Fuck off,” Bucky replied, grumpily scrubbing at his face. “Aren't vampires supposed to sleep during the day?”

 

“Not necessarily,” Steve sat down beside Bucky. “It's just more convenient. How are you feeling?”

 

Bucky huffed. “Murderous.”

 

Steve just gave him a wry smile.

 

“I'm fine,” Bucky conceded. “Just tired.”

 

Steve stroked Bucky’s face softly, before tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. Bucky leaned into the touch, closing his eyes.

 

“I'm sorry,” Bucky whispered.

 

The blond hummed. “I'm sorry too. We have a lot to talk about, huh?”

 

Bucky didn't reply, instead choosing to turn his head to bury his face in Steve's palm, breathing deeply. They stayed like that for a minute before Steve got up, brushing a gentle kiss over the brunet's temple. “Breakfast in ten.” He smiled before leaving the room. 

 

Stepping into the bathroom, Bucky froze in awe now that his head was much clearer. It was almost as large as the bedroom and was that a…  _ jacuzzi??? What even the fuck, Rogers?? _ Walking in gingerly as if any harsh movements would disturb the immaculate bathroom, Bucky wondered how he'd gotten into bed after he'd fallen asleep face planted into the towel. He blushed wondering if Steve had found him there and undressed him before tucking him into bed.  _ Well, he deserved the extra work after all the stupidity,  _ Bucky convinced himself trying to stamp down on the embarrassment. After using the new toothbrush someone had conveniently left on the shelf, Bucky washed his face more thoroughly, making sure to get all the residual blood and sweat out. He gingerly touched the side of head, gently feeling for a scar or  _ something _ that the wound would have left behind but he only felt smooth skin under his fingers.  _ Perks of being a vampire's soulmate, _ he thought bitterly. Memories of the previous night and everything it entailed started creeping into his head but Bucky shook his trying to ignore them. They were gonna talk about it. Later. 

 

Bucky finally made it to the dining room after two wrong turns, frustration slowly creeping up when he finally stumbled through the right door. He glared accusingly at Steve who brightened up considerably as soon as he saw Bucky. Sarah was already seated on the, frankly, enormous dining table with a pile of pancakes drenched in maple syrup in front of her. She barely acknowledged Bucky even as Steve bounded towards him, waving the spatula in his hand. 

 

“You're late,” he said cheekily, tucking in a strand of hair that had slipped out of Bucky's sloppy bun behind the brunette's ear. “I made pancakes!”

 

“I thought you didn't know how to make pancakes.”

 

“I can,” Steve tried to assure him as he led him to the dining table. “The thing at your house was an accident. I promise.”

 

“Hey, Sarah,”  Bucky murmured nervously, ignoring Steve as he sat down.

 

Sarah looked up for a second before her gaze fixed back on her plate of pancakes. She didn't say anything for a minute and Bucky could feel Steve tensing up behind his chair. 

 

“It's edible if you drown it in syrup,” she said finally, not looking up at Bucky and he felt Steve slightly sag in relief before beaming at his daughter, not even offended at the comment. The blond chuckled, walking back towards the kitchen. 

 

“I'll get some for you, Buck,” he announced before disappearing into the kitchen. 

 

“Sarah, I… I wanted to apologise,” Bucky turned towards the little girl as soon as Steve was out of sight. “I'm sorry for everything you had to go through. I'm sorry I was such a di- dumb head.”

 

Sarah stared at him as if she was judging his sincerity, before glaring at him. “You  _ were _ a dumb head,” she said petulantly. 

 

“No name calling, Sarah,” Steve's voice called out sternly from the kitchen, leaving Bucky surprised before he remembered the heightened senses aspect of his dumb vampire. **_His_ ** _ vampire?? What the hell, brain.  _ But this was not the time to think about that. He joined Sarah at glaring towards the general direction of Steve before turning back to her.

 

“I was, though,” he admitted. “I'm sorry.”

 

“I'm angry,” Sarah turned her glare on him. Bucky nodded. “And if you do that again, I'll make you regret your life.”

 

It was honestly a little amusing to be threatened by an eight year old who barely came up to his waist but Bucky nodded seriously. “I won't.”

 

“Promise?” 

 

“Promise,” he replied solemnly. 

 

“We don't threaten people, Sarah,” Steve said half-heartedly as he returned to the dining room with a plate of pancakes and a cup of ….  _ Was that blood?? _

 

“We don't eavesdrop on people either, Steve,” Bucky shot back, still eyeing the glass suspiciously. 

 

“Touché,” Steve grinned, placing the plate in front of Bucky and sitting down beside him. 

 

“Is that…” Bucky trailed off, his eyes still fixed on the cup. 

 

“Yeah,” Steve looked at Bucky, suddenly nervous. “From a blood bank.”

 

Bucky stared at the blond for a second before shrugging and digging into his pancakes. He paused after the first bite and grabbed the syrup bottle that Sarah had pushed towards him and drowned his pancakes in it. He rolled his eyes when Steve made an affronted noise, and kicked his feet under the table, letting his leg stay pressed against the blond’s. He saw Steve smile from the corner of his eye but turned towards Sarah as she spoke. 

 

“I want ice cream,” she demanded. 

 

“Sure, princess,” Steve smiled indulgently, leaning across the table to ruffle her hair only to receive a scowl in return. “How about we visit your favourite shop after lunch? That way Uncle Sam can tag along too.”

 

Sarah seemed to consider this before nodding, seemingly satisfied. Bucky realised the missing presence of his therapist and turned towards Steve with a questioning look. “Where's Sam?”

 

“He had work this morning but he said he'd be back around noon.”

 

Bucky had a thousand questions burning at the back of his head but he chose to hold on to them for later when Sarah wasn't around. Instead, he turned his attention back to the okay tasting pancakes. 

 

“I'm cooking lunch,” he declared as he swallowed down the last of his pancakes and washes it down with the coffee Steve had conveniently placed there for him. At least the coffee was good. 

Steve shrugged agreeably while Sarah looked torn between mild fascination and apprehension. 

 

“Wanna ban your dad from the kitchen and help me out, Sarah?” Bucky turned towards the girl, keeping his tone light and playful even as he felt nervous about the reception. But Sarah only nodded cautiously and Bucky relaxed. 

 

“How about you go and play, princess?” Steve said, standing up and collecting the plates. “Bucky and I need to talk about stuff.” He gave Sarah a meaningful look and she shrugged, slipping out of her chair and disappearing into the vast house. 

 

Bucky forced himself to follow Steve into the kitchen even though a huge part of him wanted to just ignore everything that had happened so far and just move on with their happy little lives but he knew this was a conversation that had to happen. There could not be anymore misunderstandings. 

 

“Lemme do the dishes,” Bucky said, chickening out of asking all the questions that stuck somewhere in his throat. “You cooked.”

 

Steve turned to look at him with an amused smile. “You sit there and look pretty, Barnes,” he teased, his eyes crinkling as he smiled widely. “I’m pretty sure I can finish this up faster.”

 

Bucky scowled, only half annoyed, punching the blond’s arm as he moved to stand beside him. “You’re a punk.” His hand slackening but hesitantly trailing down to hook onto the hem of Steve’s shirt loosely, uncertain about the reception. The latter’s smile only softened as he bent down his head to nuzzle into Bucky’s temple briefly.   
  


“Yeah, but I’m your punk.”   
  


Bucky’s only reply was to tighten his hold on Steve’s shirt and if a small smile graced his lips, he would deny it. He wasn’t a fucking sap.

 

They didn’t speak again as Steve finished washing up the dishes but the silence, although heavy, wasn’t awkward. Sometimes it filled with Steves tuneless humming and Bucky felt himself relaxing more than he had managed to ever since he’d come back from the war. Drying his hands, at last, Steve gently untangled Bucky’s fingers from his shirt to tangle them with his own before leading him through the huge living room and out the door.

 

“Where are we going?” Bucky asked, slightly distracted by all the grandeur he had not noticed the previous night. Steve smirked, winking at Bucky, not answering the question. Finally, he stopped at the side of the mansion and let go of Bucky’s hand to pull out a honest-to-god ladder out of the neatly trimmed flowering hedges that lined the walls and leaned it against the wall, grinning at Bucky’s comical expression of disbelief.

 

“Go on,” he said, leaning the ladder against the wall and Bucky noticed that it just reached the roof. After another apprehensive glance at Steve, he made his way up the ladder and scrambled up just enough that Steve would have space on the roof when he followed. Once he reached, Steve stood up straight with the kind of fluidity that gave away the confidence only a supernatural with no fear of the consequences of tumbling down three stories to a possible death could possess. Grinning at Bucky precariously clutching onto the shingles, Steve scrambled past him with all the grace of an overeager puppy and the brunet followed cautiously. They stopped when they had reached a weird curve in the architecture that seemed to have no actual purpose until Steve nudged Bucky and pointed at the single window that was visible from the position they were in.

 

“Sarah’s room?” Bucky asked confused, watching the kid building what looked like a fortified castle with lego. “Are we spying on your daughter?”

 

Steve huffed a laugh. “Not really. This way, I can keep an eye on her while we both get some time away from each other. I come hang out here with a book or my sketchbook sometimes.” 

 

Bucky nodded as they sat down on the slope, the brunet unconsciously clinging onto Steve as their legs dangled down. 

 

“Where do you wanna start?” Steve asked quietly his hands gripping the edge of the roof as if physically restraining himself from touching the other man. This was not the time for it. 

 

“I’m sorry for.. for calling you a- a,” Bucky looked away, licking at his lips nervously, even as his hand tightened around Steve’s arm. The blond smiled wryly.

 

“And I’m sorry for being so impatient and stubborn,” Steve said, turning Bucky’s face towards him to press their foreheads together, rubbing their noses briefly when the tension melted away from the latter’s frame. Brushing their lips in a small kiss, Steve pulled back to look expectantly at Bucky, who shook himself off the kiss induced stupor.

 

“Ew,” he scrunched up his face in distaste. “You taste like blood. That’s so gross.”   
  


Steve let out a surprised laugh. “Well, I’ll make sure to brush my teeth next time, then.” he said, amused. “It’s not like you haven’t kissed me with blood still in my mouth before.”   
  
“Yeah, but that was my own blood, duh.”

 

“Except for when I’d just finished murdering a bunch of vampires?”

 

Bucky’s face twisted in horror as the realisation struck. “Oh god, stop you’re gonna make me gag. I hate you.”

 

Steve looked torn between laughing at Bucky and comforting him but he ended up somewhere in the middle, wrapping his arms around the brunet even as he chuckled. “I’m sure you do, sweetheart.” 

 

Bucky settled in, curving to fit himself perfectly against the blond. He sighed, content in the silence for a few seconds.

  
“Tell me about Rumlow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm itching to write smut and they've to get through all the talking before they can bang ughhhhhhh 
> 
> (Pssst I'll love you forever if you leave comments)

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all critisism is welcome but please don't be mean. I'm not sure where this story is going, so if you guys have any suggestions, leave them in the comments or message me on tumblr! If you liked it, don't forget to leave comments and kudos! and subscribe! Say hi to me on [tumblr](https://turquoise-tales.tumblr.com) and we can be friends!


End file.
